Bubblebaths
by panicattackkisses
Summary: A bad day ends in Stiles looking after Lydia. And what makes any girl feel more better than a bubble bath? Stiles and Lydia fluff.


To say that Lydia Martin had had a bad day, would be an understatement.

She had found another body in the woods, her mind empty of thoughts or reasoning as she got into her car after school and drove mindlessly. It wasn't until she screamed that she realised where she was and what she was looking at.

Cold, lifeless eyes had started up at her and they wouldn't leave her mind. They were imprinted there and Lydia had a feeling that she wasn't going to forget them for a while. Blood stained the fallen leaves under her feet; the golden shades of yellow and orange turning crimson.  
She shook, she sobbed and she was unable to move. She didn't know what to do. In the back of her mind she was aware that her scream would have reached Scott and Isaac, even the twins and Derek.  
Despite that, she still knew she needed to call one person, the one person that she needed in her time of panic and desperation.

Fumbling and squinting through a sea of tears and smeared mascara, she found her phone in her jacket pocket, stabbing frantically at the device until she hit the correct button.  
Speed dial #1 'Stiles Stilinski'.  
Her phone rang only once before the boy picked up. Her bottom lip trembled as his voice leaked out of her phone.

''Lydia?'' She couldn't find the words to answer, only more choked sobs.  
''Lydia, it's okay. We're on our way'' She heard him tell Isaac to drive faster. ''We're coming, it's okay. I'm coming to get you, I promise.'' She nodded before realising he couldn't see her.  
''Okay. Okay, please Stiles, hurry.'' She couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice.

Minutes later, the jeep and Scott's motorbike appeared on the worn, muddy track. Stiles was the first out, leaving the door open and allowing Lydia to crush herself into his arms. He tangled a hand into her hair, rubbing soothing circles into her back.  
''It's okay, we're here. I'm here.'' 

That was six hours ago. Now, at 10.30pm, Lydia lay face down on her bed, sniffling into a pillow and trying in vain to rid her memory of those dead eyes.  
She felt the bed shift and Stiles hesitation before he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in comfort. She turned, looking at his worried gaze. Her hair was a mess after running her hands through it out of stress and her face was void of makeup. She didn't care.  
''Are you okay?'' Stiles' voice broke the silence, her empty house being a blessing. Explaining to her mother why Stiles had practically carried her shaking body from his jeep into the house would have been tricky.  
''I hate this. I hate what I am. A banshee.'' Her voice cracked from the continuous tears that had been shed.  
''I know.'' Stiles' couldn't hid the anguish in his own, he longed to rid her of her tears.  
''I can still see the eyes.'' She shudder, ''I can see the blood.'' A sob ripped through her.  
Stiles was quick to move to her, no hesitation this time as he gathered her up in his arms.

''I feel like it's on me, it's everywhere. So much blood, Stiles.''  
Utterly distressed, Stiles came to the only conclusion he could at her words. Letting her go, despite his heart telling him not to, he disappeared into her en suite bathroom.

Lydia heard the water running and soon inviting hot steam swam out of the door. Stiles appeared, holding up two bubblebath bottles.  
''Preference?''  
She pointed to the purple bottle, lavender. He nodded thoughtfully and returned to the bathroom.  
Minutes later he stood in front of her, holding out his hand. She took it, his own holding hers like it was made of glass.  
Leading her to the bathroom, she almost started to cry again. Stiles had run her a bath, lavender scented bubbles erupted from the tub and all of her candles were lit, making the room glow.  
''Take your time,'' Stiles said softly, ''I'll be in your room if you need me.''  
He turned to leave with a smile, but before he could make it to the door, Lydia caught his fingers in her hand, holding him. He looked at her questioningly.

''Stay.''  
She couldn't quite believe it had come out of her mouth and judging by Stiles' slack jaw and hazy eyes, neither could he.  
''Please'', she Lydia whispered, a blush creeping onto her cheeks, ''I don't want to be alone.''  
Swallowing audibly, Stiles nodded in acceptance. He looked around, not knowing what to do.  
Biting her lip nervously, Lydia instructed him to turn around. He did so, facing the wall and tugging the ends of his messy hair in nervousness, anticipation..? He didn't really know.

He heard rather than seen Lydia's clothes hitting the floor, the soft thumps audible in the still too quiet house. A swish of water, followed by a small splash and a sigh was heard before, ''You can turn round, Stiles.''  
Exhaling deeply, the boy slowly turned around, not prepared for the sight before him. Lydia was hidden under lilac stained water and a mountain of bubbles, only her shoulders and head visible. Her strawberry blonde locks were piled messily on top of her head in a bun, strands falling around her face haphazardly. Her eyes were finally free from tears but still shining and a pink blush fell across her cheeks. The candle lit made her glow, she shone.  
Stiles had never seen her look so beautiful.

His expression showed it. Lydia's blush deepened but she didn't feel as awkward or uncomfortable in the situation as she thought she would've. In fact, she felt at ease, it was normal. She felt utterly safe. So when Stiles slowly sank to his knees in front of the tub and sat at her eye level, she simply smiled, the small effort wearing her out.  
''Sleepy?'' He murmured softly. Lydia nodded.  
Without answering, Stiles picked up the sponge beside the taps, a fancy pink one that Lydia loved. He dipped it into the hot water before ever so gently running it over the bare skin he could see. It was tender, caring and so full of love and adoration that Lydia could have wept. She needed this. Stiles needed this.  
He craved to look after her just like she did for him. He would give anything to protect her, to make her happy. So, for almost an hour that night, Stiles stroked her skin until she calmed, he helped her wash her tangled hair and soothe her tear stained face. He topped up the hot water and added more bubbles and he did all this until Lydia could shed no more tears.

She slept next to Stiles that night, her huge bed of no advantage as they pressed themselves to each other fiercely.

Lydia didn't see any eyes that night.


End file.
